Still staggered by wonder, Alex blinked up at Westerly. “I’m in love with my wife.”
Westerly nodded. “Very much so, sir.”
“What say we buy Her Ladyship stock in the cacao market and Caribbean sugar cane to celebrate?”
“You buy the stock, sir,” Westerly instructed. “And I’ll make all the wretched hot chocolate Her Ladyship can drink. After all, we must maintain some sort of order in a world gone mad.” He offered Alex his hand.
Alex shook it. “Deal.”
“If there’s nothing else, sir, I’ll go see to your morning beverage tray.”
“Thank you, Westerly…for everything.”
“Right, sir.”
“Oh, and Westerly, if the newspapers have arrived would you mind putting them on the tray?”
“I’ll iron them straight away, sir, and send them and your messages right up.” He gave his master a knowing look. “You have a few minutes, sir. Take your time. It isn’t every day a man realizes his dreams.”
Alex took Westerly’s advice and sat before the fire a few minutes longer, pondering the miracle that had occurred while he wasn’t paying attention. His grand scheme to save Liana for a man more worthy than he had dissolved into ash.
The Marquess of Courtland hadn’t known it at the time, but he had saved Liana McElreath from Rothermere because he wanted her for himself and by heaven, he wasn’t going to let her go.
“I’m in love with my wife.”
* * *
Westerly brought up the tray bearing the coffee, tea, chocolate, the freshly-ironed morning newspapers and a message from the Duke of Avon almost immediately. Alex was washing his hands in preparation for breakfast when Westerly set the tray on the table and called him into the sitting room. “Lord Courtland!”
Alex dried his hands and joined his manservant. “Westerly?” The look on the butler’s face alarmed him. “What is it, man? What’s happened?”
Westerly shoved the latest edition of the Times at him. The two-inch high banner announced the news: The Monster Has Escaped Elba.
Alex read the article, then exploded. “Damnation! Twenty years of war to finally stop him… For this! We confined him to an island, let him keep his title, most of his property and allowed him visitors—including his mother, his sister, and his mistress—and gave him sovereignty over the island’s one hundred twelve thousand inhabitants. And he still wasn’t satisfied. What a farce! He was under British guard, and yet we allowed him to keep his personal army. He escaped with over a thousand followers on boats. We confined him to an island and gave him boats. How incompetent are we?”
“Bonaparte escaped?”
Alex turned and found his bride standing in the doorway fully dressed for an outing. “I’m afraid so.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, my lady, but we will have to change our plans for the day and for the duration of our honeymoon.”
She nodded.
Alex broke the seal on the note from Avon, read the message, then tossed it in the fire before turning to Westerly. “Have my carriage made ready and pack my travel bag.”
Liana bit her bottom lip. “You’re leaving?”
“We’re leaving.” Turning back to Westerly, Alex issued more instructions. “Please send one of the maids to pack Lady Courtland’s things. We’re leaving for London within the hour.”
He was as good as his word. They ate breakfast while the carriage and the team were readied for travel and their luggage loaded aboard. Three quarters of an hour later, Alex and Liana thanked the staff for their excellent care, distributed more gold sovereigns, and then climbed into their coach for the long journey back to London.
“I apologize for this, Liana, but in case of war, I have business in the city to which I must attend—especially since my business partners are in Vienna.”
Leaning forward, Liana reached over and touched Alex’s cheek, tracing the crease that hadn’t been there when she’d shaved him. “What happened to your face?”
“I was struck by something while galloping across the meadow.” It wasn’t a lie. He had been struck by something while galloping over the meadow. He suspected it was a rifle bullet, but he couldn’t prove it, and Alex saw no reason to alarm his wife unnecessarily. After removing his hat and jacket, he loosened his cravat, and settled back against the cushions for the long journey.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“It stings a bit.”
“I’ll tend to it when we stop at the coaching inn.”
“We won’t be stopping at a coaching inn tonight.”
Liana groaned at the prospect of traveling all the way to London without stopping. “What about the horses?”
Her concern for his team touched him. “The horses will be just fine. They’ll be munching hay and grain in the stable at Abernathy Manor before the end of day.”
“The Duke of Avon’s country house?”
“The same,” he said. “Do you know them?”
“I met them at Colin and Gillian’s wedding. The duke stood up for Colin and the duchess stood up for Gillian. I understand the duchess is with child. It will be nice to see them again.”
“Good,” Alex said. “I have a meeting with the duke. He can’t leave his house because his wife and his mother are both with child and very close to term. So I’m going to him. We’ll be staying with them for a few days.”
“We’re going to be guests at Abernathy Manor?” Liana was astounded. Abernathy Manor had become a showplace since Alyssa Carrollton had married Griffin Abernathy. It was said that while unconventional, the gardens at the Manor rivaled the centuries-old gardens at Sussex House, the official London residence of the Dukes of Sussex. Not only were the gardens a showplace, but Abernathy Manor was said to be a model of efficiency.
Alex smiled at Liana’s obvious excitement. “Yes. Guests. They don’t need any more servants. Although in her present condition, Alyssa may be hiring more gardeners to get everything ready for spring.” He leaned over and asked. “Do you garden?”
Liana thought he might be teasing, but she couldn’t be sure. If what she’d heard about the duchess was true, Her Grace might really be recruiting guests to help with her magnificent gardens. What she didn’t know was how she and Alex could be invited to visit when they had only been married twelve days. Unless they had issued the invitation to Alex when he was still a bachelor. “When did the duke and duchess invite us to visit?”
“I received a note from them this morning requesting my presence, but as soon as he learned I was marrying you, Griff invited us to come to Abernathy Manor.”
“How could he know you were marrying me? I didn’t know you were marrying me.”
Alex gave her his most devastating grin. “You might say Avon was part of the conspiracy. He would have invited us to honeymoon at the Manor, but with Alyssa and Lady Weymouth expected to deliver any day now, he didn’t think Abernathy Manor would be the best place for a honeymoon.”
“I don’t know,” Liana replied. “It must have worked for them. Or did they honeymoon at Weymouth Park?”
“No, I believe they honeymooned at Abernathy Manor.” He thought for a moment. “I knew Griffin and Alyssa, of course, but our friendship wasn’t close until a few years ago when we began working together.”
Liana asked the question she’d been wondering about from the beginning. “Did you attend Knightsguild with Griffin and Colin?”
“No, to my very great disappointment, I was sent first to Harrogate and then to Eton and on to Oxford. I would have liked to have gone to Knightsguild. Knightsguild. The name alone, makes it sound exciting.” He sighed. “I hated Harrogate. I’m quite convinced it is enshrined in Dante’s seventh level of hell.”
Liana laughed. “That’s funny. Colin was convinced Knightsguild was in the seventh level of hell. He hated it. Until he made friends with Griffin and Jarrod and Jonathan Manners.”
“Maybe all public schools reside there.” Alex opened his right hand and stared down at the thin white line bi
secting his palm. Not until he made friends. Until Colin and Griffin and Jarrod had secretly formed the Free Fellows League and become blood brothers. “At least as far as little boys are concerned.”
“You have a scar on your palm, too.”
Alex looked up and pretended a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Too?”
Liana wasn’t fooled. Colin hadn’t guessed that she knew about the secret league he’d formed with his schoolmates. She’d known about it for years. “Colin has a scar on his right palm.”
“Does he?”
“He got it years ago at Knightsguild,” Liana said. “It’s barely visible now. You would be hard pressed to find it. He said he got it playing mumblety-peg with his friends. Yours looks more recent.” She gazed at him innocently, wondering if he was going to tell her he was a Free Fellow just like her brother Colin.
“When I’m in London, I like to fence at Monsieur Jean-Michel Freneau’s Académie d’Escrime. I’ve received numerous pricks and scratches over the years.” He didn’t just like to fence at the fencing master’s school, he was a regular. The place was always filled with Frenchmen—some Bonapartists and some supporters of the Bourbon king. Alex kept in shape and gathered bits of information at the same time. “I received this one two years ago.” When he’d joined the League.
“And the one on your right upper arm? When did you get it?” She leaned over and traced the scar through the fabric of his shirt with the tip of her finger. She couldn’t feel it, but she knew where it was and could describe its jagged contours. She saw it every time she watched him shave and she’d been watching him for a sennight.
“Nearly four years ago.”
“At the fencing academy?”
“Yes. Felix Rothermere gave it to me.” He grimaced at the memory. “When I didn’t react quickly enough. I gave him the C at the corner of his eye when he didn’t parry fast enough. C for Courtland.”
“I thought gentlemen wore padded costumes and face shields to fence.”
“Normally they do,” he admitted. “But I had gone to the academy to exorcise a few demons. I had finished my lesson and was about to leave when Rothermere came it. He said something. I said something back and the fight was on—with rapiers instead of fists.”
Liana felt a little catch in her heart. “Because of Felicity?”
“In a way,” he said.
The catch in Liana’s heart became a vise. He didn’t have to say the words. She knew Felicity was someone he had loved. Someone who still had his heart. He didn’t have to say the words, but she had to ask. “She chose Rothermere over you, didn’t she? And she broke your heart.”
“I was brokenhearted over her death,” he admitted. “Because it was ugly and senseless and because Felicity had loved Rothermere with all her heart and because he was her husband. He was supposed to take care of her. And he killed her.” He looked at Liana, his voice vibrating with emotion. “My darling Lady Courtland, I loved Felicity the way a boy adores his youngest aunt. She was eight when I was born. My Grandmother and Grandfather Wolverton’s late-in-life child. My mother’s youngest sister. My mother adored her. My father adored her. I adored her. She was my first playmate. My first friend. And after my parents, my fiercest protector and confidant. She stayed with us as much as she did at home and treated me as if I were her baby doll.” He was forced to swallow a knot of raw emotion. “I was happy when she married Rothermere because she was so happy. Felix and Felicity. Both of their names mean happiness. They should have been a perfect match. Felicity was well named. He was not. She caused great happiness to all that knew her—except Rothermere. He blamed her for their firstborn son being stillborn. And beat her to death after she gave birth to a healthy girl. But before he did, he made her watch as he smothered her baby.
Liana visibly recoiled and made the sign of the cross. “Oh dear heavens!”
“I was fourteen when she died. And away at school. I was too young to be her protector and take on Rothermere. My grandfather, too old. He suffered an apoplectic seizure and died shortly after her funeral. My grandmother never spoke another word. It took a bit longer for her to die, but she grieved herself to death two months after my grandfather died. It fell to my mother and father to try to find justice for Felicity. They hired Bow Street Runners and my father did his own investigation. He confronted Rothermere with his evidence and was murdered because of it. I became Marquess of Courtland at fifteen. Felix Rothermere single-handedly decimated my family. That was twelve years ago.” He sighed. “The rest you know.”
“Except what you said to Rothermere that day at the academy.”
Alex raked his fingers through his hair, pausing long enough to scrub his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Ah, yes, that day. I went to the academy to expend some of my rage. You see, I had just returned from the funeral of the third Lady Rothermere, Miss Polly Gilpin, who died within two years of becoming Lady Rothermere. I didn’t know her, but I was compelled to pay my respects, not to the widower or to Miss Gilpin’s anguished father, but to her. Because she died at the hands of Felicity’s murderer. I suppose it was a twist of fate that I should be leaving the academy as Rothermere entered it. He told me I had no business attending his wife’s funeral. I told him he belonged in hell and that I would do my utmost to see him dispatched there before he could murder another man’s daughter.” He looked at Liana. “And the fight was on. If Freneau hadn’t intervened I would have cut him to ribbons. I was younger, quicker, more determined…”
“But your arm…”
“He slashed my arm after Freneau got between us. And when he learned of the altercation, the Prince Regent ordered us to avoid public displays of animosity on pain of prison or transportation to the colonies.” He shrugged. “I haven’t stopped my investigations, but I hadn’t publicly confronted him until twelve days ago.”
“Oh, Alex… Oh my darling, darling Alex…”
Before he knew quite how it happened Liana was in his arms. Kissing him. Holding him. Loving him. And before he knew it, he was kissing her, holding her, and loving her back.
They kissed and caressed and touched each other in places they’d never touched before. He took her to the brink of fulfillment over and over again, but Alexander Courtland steadfastly refused to take his bride’s maidenhead in the cramped confines of a vehicle. No matter how politely she asked. Or how much he ached to.
Her first time, he told her, should be in a bed.
And last all night.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Friendships multiply joys and divide griefs.”
—Thomas Fuller, 1654-1734
Alex and Liana barely managed to arrange their clothing and straighten their finger-combed hair before the coach pulled up to the front door of Abernathy Manor. Her bonnet was on correctly, but the hair she’d hastily confined beneath it was a mess. They were entirely presentable, if a little breathless, by the time the vehicle rolled to a stop.
But there was no hiding the fact that something had happened in the coach for as Schuyler opened the door and pulled down the steps a shower of hairpins fell out of the vehicle and onto the cobblestone drive.
It was half past four in the afternoon and the winter sun was beginning to sink into the horizon. It had grown colder as the afternoon lengthened, so much colder that Alex and Liana had cuddled beneath the lap robe while he’d opened her bodice, pulled down her chemise and teased the tips of her breasts with his tongue. And her pert bosom had not disappointed him. There was just enough chill in the air to keep the tips taut and oh so sensitive. Alex glanced down at his wife, relieved to note that her traveling cloak provided ample coverage to prevent those taut peaks from scandalizing the Abernathy Manor staff that had turned out to welcome their newlywed guests.
“Welcome to Abernathy Manor, Lord and Lady Courtland. I am Keswick, the butler. Their Graces are awaiting your arrival in the petite salon. If you will follow me.” The butler introduced the housekeeper, Mrs. Lightsey, the cook, Mrs. Jernigan, and the head foo
tman, Morton as he led the way up the steps, through the front door and a marble entryway, then into a small salon.
“Lord and Lady Courtland have arrived, Your Graces,” Keswick announced as he ushered Liana and Alex into the room. “I’ll have their luggage taken to the yellow suite, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Keswick.” Griffin Abernathy, first Duke of Avon, rose from the sofa and walked over to greet them. Alyssa, first Duchess of Avon, tried to rise from the sofa, but her husband turned and quickly admonished her. “Alyssa, we had an agreement. You stay on the sofa. You cannot see your feet. I don’t want you trying to stand.”
Alyssa laughed. “I don’t think I can get up on my own without your help anyway or the help of oxen and a dray.”
Alex gave the duke a slight bow and walked over to the sofa and lifted the duchess’s hand to his lips. “Your Grace.” He turned to Griffin and extended his hand. “Your Grace.”
Griffin shook his hand. “Lord Courtland.”
“May I present my bride, Liana, Marchioness of Courtland?”
Liana executed a graceful curtsey. “Your Grace,” she addressed the duchess first, then turned and addressed the duke. “Your Grace.”
Griffin limped slightly as he moved to raise her from her curtsey. “Nicely done, Lady Courtland.” He raised Liana’s hand to his lips and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Welcome to Abernathy Manor. We are honored to have you as our guests.” He gave Alex a pointed look, focusing on his misbuttoned shirt. “I trust you had a most enjoyable journey by coach from Greneleafe Abbey here.”
Alex didn’t blush, but the tips of his ears reddened when he realized Griff knew exactly how they’d spent the coach ride. “It was most enjoyable, Your Grace. Thank you for inquiring.”
A Bachelor Still Page 26
